Michael Cole

Published by Foremost Press at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 Michael Cole

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Spurring his steed forward, Vicious Dog rode through the night. Completely exhausted from lack of sleep, he swayed on the horse that carried him on the last leg of his journey. It was now dawn. As the morning mist lifted, he could see puffs of white smoke from the dying embers of hundreds of campfires that encircled the wind-swept plateau.

As he urged his tired steed toward the encampment, two riders approached him, their spears at their sides. “How is our Lord?” Vicious Dog asked, afraid he was already too late.

The rider with the gold-hilted dagger in his sash said, “He rests comfortably in his tent awaiting your arrival. Follow us and we shall take you to him.”

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